


old things

by luvotomy



Category: Kuroko no Basuke | Kuroko's Basketball
Genre: Gen, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-11-08
Updated: 2015-11-08
Packaged: 2018-04-30 15:00:16
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 695
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5168168
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/luvotomy/pseuds/luvotomy
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>this stuff is so old its become mOLDY. a bunch of old things from like 1 year ago that i moved here, generally v short.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. prompt: vamp!midohai

haizaki has his own charms to lure pretty humans and persuade them to bare their even prettier skin for him, and sometimes he can get midorima to do the same.

the first time they fall onto a bed haizaki laughs, a rough and hollow sound, and midorima notices the absence of heat when he touches haizaki, it’s an odd feeling, jarring, too used to the delicate pulse under someone’s skin.

the sheets are always cold.


	2. prompt: tenipuri!kihai

kise wraps his hand around the grip of haizaki’s old racquet, it had been sitting in a locker, abandoned and never to be used again, but he considers taking it.

he thinks of haizaki, disbelief and defeat on his face, it was a close match, but haizaki wasn’t close enough, and he thinks of the changing rooms, sneaking peeks to commit every dip and every line to memory.

kise looks around the club room, then he puts the racquet into his bag.


	3. prompt: model!kihai

haizaki scowls at the camera and kise smirks, the photographer tells them to be more aggressive, stand closer, closer, that’s it.

then they’re told to be even closer, foreheads touching like they were butting heads, and haizaki doesn’t feel too comfortable with kise’s breath on his lips.

they get the shot and haizaki is relieved, and as he leaves, he tries to rub the tingle in his lips away.


	4. haizaki has never had a gorigori kun

Haizaki is neither dumb nor oblivious. He knows about their little hangouts. He doesn’t know how he feels about that and tries not to think about it, or care and it turns out he does a good job at that.

But tonight he’s denying his loneliness and finds himself in the local 7-Eleven, staring down at one of the many fridges, where sections and sections of colourfully packaged ice cream and popsicles stacked neatly on top and across each other. He slides the fridge open and reaches for the one in a bright blue package.

After he pays for it he goes outside and sits down on a parking stop, dumping his school bag beside him, then starts ripping the package open. He holds up the Popsicle, studying it, pale blue and frosted with white, simple in its rectangular shape and underwhelming.

He takes his first taste and it’s everything a popsicle is, cold, sweet, numbing his lips and tongue. Then he bites through, the scraping against his teeth sends a shudder through him. It nearly hurts the roof of his mouth as he sucks the flavour out of the chunk of ice.

Finishing it off rather quickly, he stands up to chuck the rubbish in the bin, throwing his bag over his shoulder and dusts off his pants.

On the way home with the tart aftertaste on his tongue, he decides that he wasn’t missing out on much.


	5. prompt: akahai

there are a lot of things that haizaki likes to pretend never happened. like the occasional gentle brushes along his wrists, the soft touches of breath on his neck when he’s lying in bed half asleep.

pretend, pretending, pretender, maybe he really isn’t as good at it as kise is after all.

his skin flutters with warmth and makes him shiver, giddy and feverish with want. he squirms, shaky breaths and moans pulled from him every time he squeezes himself. he cums and he almost forgets to bite his lip to keep the name heavy in his mouth, swallowing it down, back into his belly.

he won’t say it because he fears it, the power it has and it frustrates him.

tonight when he’s tied to the bed, a humming vibrator sitting inside him and red hair bobbing between his legs, a torturous tongue languidly licking his cock. it takes every fiber of his being to keep himself from bursting.

but he’s gone out of his mind, whining and begging and wishing he could dig his fingers into pale hips that move expertly, he loses. ferociously rattling the cage, breaking free and testing the grit of his teeth, and he’s left hollow because it’s escaped but at the some time he’s never felt this full before. uninterrupted, it comes tumbling out of his trembling kiss-flushed lips, barely a whisper.

“akashi.”


End file.
